Too much of anything, no matter how good, eventually palls. Or, to put it another way, habit dulls the edge of pleasure. That's the voice of a jaded palate looking for sympathy, just in case you hadn't spotted it. Man cannot live on haute cuisine alone - sometimes chips with mayonnaise becomes the closest thing to the Holy Grail that a hungry man aspires to. Fine food in expensive restaurants is not my idea of hardship, I grant you, but sometimes what the body craves and the mind demands is something simple. Still good, mind you, but simple.

Which is why I pinned my hopes on a bistro. A bistro ought to be a place where you can eat well and simply and at no great cost. In most countries that's the case, but here in Ireland it's often used as just another synonym for restaurant, which is a pity, since precision in language is a good way to avoid confusion. Some friends in Bray had told me about the Vevay Bistro, a bistro by name, and they claimed, one by nature as well. Sounded like just what was needed to restore two flagging spirits one dank and drizzly midweek night.

I was taking Susan Morley to dinner and she'd just come to the end of a long day's painting. A night out was exactly what she needed, so we set off for the Vevay, which is the part of Bray on the way to Greystones. It was easy to find, just as decribed, next to the Centra. From outside I could see plain wooden tables covered in paper, simply set, looking exactly like a bistro should. Inside it had a busy and friendly buzz, warm ochre walls and welcoming staff who found us a decent sized table at the back. A lot of thirtysomethings filled the tables around us, some in large groups. It felt to me exactly like an Italian pizzeria; friendly, easy and simple.

We started with two mall bottles of mineral water and jug of iced water while we looked down the bills of fare. The starters are mostly under £5 and include things like crab claws, soup, beef satay, melon and smoked salmon on brown bread. The main courses are priced from £11 to £14 and include monkfish, plaice, a medley of sea-food, surf and turf, chicken and prawns, lamb, and sirloin and fillet steak with a variety of sauces, one of which, sauce Diane, brought a wave of nostalgia over me. There was a time, back in the last century, when steak Diane was the flagship of every restaurant in Dublin. A real gourmet meal was a prawn cocktail, then steak Diane and then - really flash - crepes Suzette flambeed at you table. Possibly my last steak Diane was in Roger Lewis's restaurant Creole in Dun Laoghaire thirty years ago. Well I had to, didn't I? That was one choice made. Our waiter came to tell us of the day's specials, two starters; tossed green salad with a julien of salmon and pan-fried shell-fish with a timbale of rice and two main courses; julienne of chicken and mushroom and salmon fillet with creamed pimentos and leeks. The specials didn't change my mind, but Susie chose the pan-fried shell-fish to start with the plaice in a herb crust for her main course, while I chose the chicken Satay to start.

The wine list here is just what it ought to be. Around forty wines and half-bottles are listed, mostly under £20, some as low as £11.95 and all carrying a modest mark-up. There are some standard wines as well as the odd wine offering something a little different. I decided on one of these, just for a change, and chose the Brown Brothers Dry Muscat at £13.95. The muscat grape is usually used for dessert wines, but it can make a pungent and aromatic dry wine; just the sort of thing that would stand up well to a herb crust or a Diane sauce.

When it came Susie was nearly overwhelmed by her starter. An extraordinary generosity of shell-fish was on her plate, mussels, prawns and crab claws - called, rather endearingly, 'toes' on the menu and my chicken Satay was very acceptable. And so to the main event. Susie's plaice was nicely cooked, and tasty too, she said, but the word 'crust' somehow makes the word 'crisp' come to mind and the plaice was many good things, but not crisp. I know a real gourmet would find little to say about a perfectly cooked sirloin steak, but I'm going to. For a start it was tender and well-hung, and you can't say that about many other things except maybe my mate Chris, and rather thoughtfully the sauce came in a ramekin rather than all over the steak, so I was able to dip into it at will. As it happens I like my beef 'saignant' or very underdone, and this steak was as perfect an example of 'saignant' as I've had outside France. And for once all the vegetables were included in the cost of the main course and not added on as 'side orders'.

With all this under our belt the choice for desserts was always going to be limited to one between us. Gallantly, I let Susie decide from a choice of pineapple with strawberries and Kirsch, a pavlova, a pineapple cheesecake and a brandysnap basket with strawberries. All good, simple dishes from which Susie picked the pineapple with strawberries. I can tell you that Kirsch goes well with strawberries - this was a simple but effective dessert. Suddenly I realised that the knobs on a pineapple are arranged in a logarithmic spiral and in my eagerness to point this out to Susie I managed to fell three glasses on the table. Attentive is the word to describe our waiter, who had been on the ball all evening, and within milliseconds of my clumsiness he was there with a cloth.

A bill for £61.70 was one of the lowest I've paid in a while and we left the Vevay Bistro happy and ready to tell anyone who'll listen that you can eat well here.